Snape's Makeover
by theblackspot
Summary: Snape thinks he's a Grand Master at chess, when Lupin challenges him to a game and a bet on the side.


Disclaimer: If JKR could possibly publish more often and let the rest of us Muggles have her background notes, we wouldn't have to stoop to such levels of desperate imaginations. My apologies to the show '10 years Younger' but I couldn't resist.

SNAPE'S MAKEOVER

By Black Spot

THE BET

Snape and Lupin were playing a game of chess in the staff room. Snape was victorious, crushing his opponent easily. Bored, he prepared to leave, when Lupin offered to raise the stakes. Intrigued, Snape decided it might be best if they were going to make a session of it to remove themselves to his office where they could discuss the details. Besides, he had recently received a case of exceptionally good claret that he had stored there and was looking forward to sampling it.

"Well, Lupin, what are you proposing?" asked Snape with a disdainful smirk. "Do you own anything that I would care to possess?" Pouring two large goblets of wine, he placed one in front of Lupin.

Lupin, sitting on the other side of Snape's desk, took a large gulp. "Oh, I think I could manage to find something that might interest you." Snape watched intently as he placed a small battered suitcase he had been carrying across his knees. He took a key from around his neck and unlocked it. Nestled amongst the tissue papers filling the case was a box. With great care he lifted the box and placed it on the desk between them. With a wave of his hand, he invited Snape to open it.

The box was nothing remarkable. Lupin watched as Snape, not expecting to find anything of value inside, lifted the lid. Snape's stupefaction at the sight that greeted him made Lupin chuckle. "I thought that might get your interest. It was a gift from a very grateful woman." He continued to grin as Snape rapidly extracted the contents, and was inspecting each piece for flaws, before placing them carefully on the desk. "You won't find any blemishes. They're perfect."

Snape had brought an eyepiece out, moved a candle closer and was slowly turning each piece in his long slender fingers as he scrutinised every one. "Where did you find them? Oh yes, a woman." Snape looked at Lupin with a contemptuous smile playing about his lips. "You always did have the gift with the ladies. I pity them." He languidly picked up his goblet and took a sip, savouring the full, rich dark liquid. "And for this set of chess pieces, what do you want precisely?"

"What I want is of little consequence. Would you like to play me for them?" said Lupin. He practically grinned from ear to ear. "I'll think of something later. That is if you are agreeable?" He placed a board on the desk and began to set the pieces on it. Lupin had been planning this match for a long time, offhandedly he said, "Shall we make it the best of thirteen with stalemates not counting? I know it should be unlucky, but for whom?"

Snape was almost drooling over the set. The pieces he had been caressing were made from jade and ivory, carved intricately and set with rubies and diamonds. He had to have them, not caring the price that might be exacted if he lost. Being a master of the game, he could see no difficulty in acquiring these wonderful specimens. With all the pieces in their rightful places, he looked up. "Agreed," he snorted. "You may start." He spun the board so the ivory pieces faced Lupin. Snape's confidence in his own ability to humiliate Lupin showed in the disparaging look he threw him.

THE GAME

Snape refilled the goblets and uncorked another bottle to breathe. The game started slowly. Lupin moved his pieces with caution and Snape authoritatively. In less than thirty minutes Lupin's king was exposed, and Snape with one flourish moved his queen into position.

"I'll concede that match, Severus," said Lupin. A small grin flittered across his mouth. "I wish to enjoy the fruits of my victory, and for you to suffer the consequences. Would you make an 'Infrangible Vow' over the bet?" He raised his eyebrows, and tried hard to look innocent.

Snape, opened the third bottle, looking as though he couldn't believe his ears. He stared hard at Lupin before replying, "If you wish. It is of no matter. You have never beaten me and based on your current level of play, I doubt your luck will change. This is a game of strategy, and that has never been your strong suit." He removed his wand from his robes. His other hand reached across to Lupin's.

"My chess set for your consequence." Lupin said, suddenly looked very serious. Snape did not hesitate and two were bound.

Play continued. Snape won the next three matches in rapid succession. He thought his total contempt for his opponent's ability might have led to his downfall in the fifth match. By the end of the sixth, he was puzzled as to how he had been led into such a trap. Moving the six empty bottles off his desk, he called down to the kitchens for coffee, strong, black and plenty of it.

The seventh match was difficult. Snape was not sure how he had won it. There was a nagging suspicion that Lupin had let him win. Five – two ahead, only two more victories were required for Snape to win the bet. The coffee had gone some way to clearing his head, but he still lost the next two matches over the following three hours.

His suspicion that Lupin was playing with him was fully formed by match ten. The proficient manner with which Lupin played, even toyed with him was evident. Snape's tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth. He redoubled his efforts as he played a phenomenal game, only to find the best he could manage was a stalemate.

"Can we continue this another time, Remus?" Snape enquired. If looks could kill, the one he threw Lupin would have stretched him out dead. "It's exceeding late." He tried to smile but failed dismally.

Lupin did not look quite as fresh as earlier, but still managed a crooked grin. "Scared, Severus? Worried about the consequence?" he said softly.

Snape seethed. Yes, he was worried, but it wouldn't do to admit it. With ill grace he gestured to Lupin to continue.

Within the next two hours came the inevitable victory by Lupin. Snape rapidly rose from his chair, nearly knocked over the priceless chess set, and stormed over to the fire. He kicked the dying embers in the grate, and through gritted teeth hissed, "And the consequence? What is the consequence that you have exacted from me?"

Lupin quickly returned the pieces to the box, the box to the suitcase, and snapped shut the lock, "Tomorrow. You'll have to wait 'til tomorrow. It needs to be arranged."

He rose and started towards the door. Before leaving he turned and said, "She gave me the set, as I was the only person ever to have beaten her. I have had long periods in my life doing nothing and during that time I played. Every day. I soon learnt."

He quietly let himself out and left Snape still gazing at the few smouldering coals remaining.

THE CONSEQUENCE

Snape fumed. If steam could come from his ears, it surely would. The consequence that Lupin had 'arranged' was upon him. The indignity, the humiliation would be nothing compared to what Snape would like to do to that 'semi-human'.

The programme '10 Years Younger' was a Muggle television programme. It took people, whom they considered looked older than they should, and gave them a complete makeover, including plastic surgery. Snape, though not entirely happy with his looks, was definitely not overly enamoured of the prospect of being 'improved'. He could not believe that any 'improvement' was warranted.

It was part of the consequence that he be civil. Knowing the result of not completing the task under an 'Infrangible Vow' was giving Snape palpitations. Being a slave for Lupin for a year was not high on his priorities. He still could not believe that Lupin had been cunning enough to trick him in such a manner. The Slytherin in him grudgingly admired the feat.

First he was paraded before Muggles whilst they were asked to guess his age. That had been embarrassing enough (average - fifty-two). Then he was forced to give a reasonably polite interview to the presenter, as to how he came to look older. That was a truly horrific experience. He suffered cramps in his cheeks from the forced smiles. But the worst horror came when the producer and presenter sat down with him and outlined his 'treatment'. He had to acquiesce to practically everything. It was utterly humiliating.

Every detail of his appearance was torn to shreds. His yellow teeth with their slight crookedness. His nose, the size and shape of which he had become inexplicably and inordinately fond of lately. Hair, they waxed on and on about the greasy condition and unflattering shape of it. His thinness – was he ill or something? Snape withstood all of this prodding, poking and general derision by the Muggles. The 'makeover' planning was soon over.

THE MAKEOVER

Four weeks after the 'treatment', Snape was back in the hotel room the programme had thoughtfully supplied, contemplating the results.

He bared his teeth towards the mirror and was rather startled by the reflection that looked back. He recalled the pain of having his teeth straightened after so many years. It had been nearly unbearable, worse than Crucio. He wondered if the Dark Lord knew about this form of torture. If he did, surely he would have to give greater respect to Muggles. They even volunteered to have it done to them. Parents were queuing to ensure their offspring suffered. And why? All in the name of vanity! And why hadn't St. Mungo's a department? Surely they could do the job less painfully. At least having his teeth whitened had not been nearly so bad. Disgusting taste, but the process had been short and painless, he recollected.

The longer he peered at the mirror, the less sure he was about nose job. It was still a bit swollen after the operation. It was definitely shorter and they had gotten rid of the kink. But he wasn't sure that the pert olfactory organ, that met his gaze, suited him.

The visit to the hairdresser had been humiliating, but it was worth it. Why had no one told him that he'd been using the wrong shampoo all these years? Or that Muggles used conditioners, which resulted in such great texture? That had been a revelation. The mirror loved his hair. Snape looked smug as he remembered the greasy rats' tails and compared them to the head of hair that now framed his face. It had bounce, shine and fell in soft waves. When he shook his head, it returned to its former shape. He was pleased that they hadn't cut it much shorter. If they had he would have needed his ears done. After having experimented with different tints and tones they had returned the colour to his natural shade as everything had clashed with his complexion.

The chemical peel had left his skin soft, improved the tone and removed the worst of the deep creases between his brows. "But," glowering at his reflection, he continued, "if they try to put makeup on me again, I'll do more than make their toenails grow. Isn't it enough that I've agreed to moisturise more often? Humph!" Imagining the titters of the students back at Hogwarts if he were to turn up wearing concealer and foundation made him shudder.

His gaze fell to the clothes they had attired him in. He quite liked the clothes. They had quickly realised he didn't do casual. He considered the suit he was wearing reasonably passable. The cut emphasised his height and didn't make him look as scrawny as usual. The bottom lift had not been required. He'd never considered a Nehru collar before but he quite found it more than acceptable. Stretching his neck one-way and then another. Snape definitely thought it had swan like qualities about it. He would order some robes in the same style from 'that hag' down in Diagon Alley.

Snape removed the jacket and rolled up one sleeve of the pristine white shirt. He looked at what remained of the 'Dark Mark'. The tattoo artist had been impressed with it. With hair on it looked almost ordinary. The beard and moustache were nice touches to cover the snakes. And when the tattooist put 'Dad my Hero' underneath, that was inspirational. Snape hoped it would stop any further questions.

He'd had his revenge on Lupin. With his now almost devastating good looks, he'd bedded practically everybody from the show, male or female. He didn't care. The newfound power was exhilarating. Twenty-nine was his average age now. "The stupid Muggles. Hah!"

"This nose had better be down in two weeks. I don't want the students staring," he said and turned slowly from the mirror.

"I wonder if they will notice?"

A/N Many thanks to phoenix for being such an excellent Beta.


End file.
